


and this is a drabble i like to call "he will never get the succ"

by kingozma



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Sex, Dysfunctional Relationships, Existential Angst, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, NV Being An Asshole, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingozma/pseuds/kingozma
Summary: involving my oc monoman and my favorite boytoy's oc, NV. they're robots :Dafter a long history of consensual but unhealthy and unsatisfying sex (and like, a loss of human life caused by their own direct actions), monoman has decided he's a little done with NV, and NV tries (badly) to salvage the situation. because it's not really a relationship anyway, is it? isn't monoman sort of just a means to an end, and a guinea pig for NV's paradoxical feelings of humanity? [NV voice] r/iamverysmart
Relationships: NV/Monoman (ROBOT SJW PARTY)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	and this is a drabble i like to call "he will never get the succ"

When NV poked his head in the open doorway of Monoman’s quarters, he was a bit shocked to see the normally-busy bot curled up in the corner of the floor where he normally slept.

It was just a white shag rug, barely bigger than Monoman’s curled up form, with throw-pillows of various shapes and colors littered about - neither NV nor Monoman wanted to know who found them and where - and an thin but old, and thus comfortably fuzzy, off-green blanket.

The little bot didn’t even bother to cover himself as he slept, and NV figured Monoman was taken by exhaustion entirely – or no, maybe not - was that a sniffle? In his esteemed medical opinion, at least, people did not breathe like that unless they were awake.

So instead of leaving the weary thing be, NV grimaced and crossed the threshold into the room.

“Hel…lo?” He called softly, half-heartedly, almost furtively, “Monoman?” And so he looked down at the barely-glowing, crumpled-up ball of flesh and metal on the floor, stepping closer.

Before he could fully assess the barely-open look in Monoman’s eyes, the little bot croaked, “There’s nothing I can give you. I’m tired. Go away.”

“What– that’s –” NV stammered, horrified for just a moment before he realized he probably had that comment coming. Who exactly was benefitting from their more intimate moments, again? Who tended to initiate them?

He paused, and chose his words carefully. “No. I don’t want anything from you. It’s okay, I don’t want you to worry about anything but yourself for now. I can love you in other ways.”

Not carefully enough. Monoman mumbled something under his breath.

“Pardon?”

“You don’t know,” Monoman murmured groggily, “What that word means. You keep saying it but I don’t think you understand it.” And in one of his rare moments of disturbing wit, he added, “I don’t think you understand anything but dead bodies, you weren’t built to,” and rolled over onto his other side.

Though the surgical bot - corpse, rather - felt the ugly, deliberate sting of that last comment, he closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. Lashing out would achieve nothing right now, not against his own ally.

Monoman would not wait for NV’s speech, though, and he pushed himself into a sort of sitting position, leaning on his arms.

“It’s not like someone dying in surgery. Even if you did something wrong and killed them, you always know you didn’t mean to. You weren’t on the side of the disease. You didn’t like the tumor, you were trying to remove it,” he said, eyes widening at the floor. “Today, we were on the side of the disease. A real person died, and - everyone is okay. But I’m not.”

NV didn’t know how to respond to this. Part of him was blown away by how intelligent Monoman’s emotions really were, but another part was overwhelmed by the weight of his words. To NV and Engard, humans dying didn’t even qualify as spilt milk. It was a means to an end, they didn’t care. But Monoman did. He called those means to an end, a disease.

There was nothing to say about that. So he went in the only direction he could.

“I… Can see where you would be mistaken,” he said through grit teeth, and that was his best attempt, “But - Well, you’re right that I wasn’t built that way, but. You’re wrong, I understand love entirely.”

Not wanting to admit that was lie, and that he really didn’t get it ENTIRELY, he just went on. “Love is… Well, just – as an example - love is always wanting to prove myself to someone. That I and I alone am the best fit for them as a companion.”

Monoman simply shot a confused look at the floor he was already staring holes through.

And so NV went further, “I don’t care what other machines think of my intelligence. They know of my functions, they can’t doubt them. Despite that, somehow I find myself caring just a bit more about what you think of me. I’d rather you admire me if you can.”

The little monochrome bot couldn’t exactly just go and say ‘I do!’, because right now, he didn’t. He didn’t know how he felt about anyone, including himself. So he settled himself back down - onto elbows and then on his side again, facing NV this time.

“What else does it mean?” He murmured, meekly.

NV looked down at Monoman and chuckled a bit, finding his hand resting on the little bot’s head, fingers tangling up in his harshly angled, black hair.

“Love means wanting this. Just - to sit here and pet you and let you sit your grievances. Ordinarily, I have no patience for it.”

“That’s weird,” Monoman said, closing his eyes, just focusing on the feeling of cold, stiff fingers running through his hair, “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand you.”

NV was fine with that. Monoman couldn’t necessarily be blamed, there wasn’t much to understand.


End file.
